Scene: a kitchen in a spooky historical loft, just outside of downtown Los Angeles

“Please don’t kill me.” I sent to him along with a picture of my confirmed flight.

He made no promises.

“What the hell am I thinking? I just met him a week ago.” I said to my friend who had brought me out to happy hour to catch up on the post holiday news.

“Have fun. It’s an adventure.”

And it was going to be. I was nervous and excited and nervous and excited and…

I felt the rush inside of me as I clicked confirm for the flight. He’d asked me the day after I met him… before we parted ways on our buses after that amazing first date.

I had no clue what to expect except to have zero expectations. I already adored this man. Would the trip solidify that even more? Or would I fuck things up?

I was nervous and excited. I knew before I even opened the browser to check on flights that I would get people telling me I was crazy to even consider it let alone do it. But great rewards come from great risks. Like that first message. Like the ones that followed. Like every day you wake up and get out of bed.

I’d made the decision to myself that this was the year I stopped holding myself back. I’ve had moments where I’ve stepped away from believing that. I’m working on making them less common. And every day I’ve felt a little bit stronger. Every day I’ve felt amazing.

What would happen in Vegas, I didn’t know.

“Have fun. It’s an adventure.”

Every damn day is an adventure. Don’t hold yourself back from experiencing every last bit of it.